The Face Beneath The Waves
by A.V Storm
Summary: 100 challenge prompts on Anastasia/Will Scarlet, told from various point of views; how they met, in-between, longing, etc. [Red Knave] [Scarlet Queen] [Red Scarlet] [Will/Ana] [FLUFF] [Every other ship name since there seems to be ten of them?] I may include how or why I think Will is back in Storybrooke depending on the prompt.
1. 01 Beauty

**Author's Note:  
** I just finished OUATIW a few weeks ago and my mind was blown. I know how disastrously behind I am on my older stories, so I really shouldn't be starting anything new. But man, Red Knave hit me so hard in the feelings. I looked far and wide for great fanfics about them, but I found myself disappointed. Hardly any at all!

So here is my newest drabble challenge that will actually stick to a 100 to 200 word rule… LOL. I will try and update on this one asap. Not joking; favorite otp in OUAT ever.

\- A.V Storm

* * *

 _001\. Beauty_

* * *

The first time that he had seen Lady Tremaine and her daughters was from inside of the pub of Sherwood Forest.

Will had just finished swallowing half a pint when he saw her gliding past the window – staying quiet behind her stern mother and tall sister. All of which adorned gowns that were clearly of higher expense than anything he had ever owned.

"Who is that?" He demanded from the barkeep, whose hands were tangled in a dirty rag. His lofty gaze lifted while a snort cranked at his throat.

"Lady Tremaine and her daughters."

"Yes, but who's that lovely one there?" Will brought a forefinger up, pointing directly at the gentlest face of them all. The dress she wore was _maddeningly_ attentive to her figure.

"G'lord boy, I dunno their names!"

"She's a beauty though, ain't she?"

Despite that he didn't need a second opinion from the man who served his beer, he looked back at him with a goofy grin smitten across his face.

"That's right." The man rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he wiped another dish. "But don't stare too long, Scarlet. I hear Lady Tremaine charges for that."

Even if Will Scarlet would have known how right the man was just then, he still would have pursued Anastasia.


	2. 02 Love

**Author's Note:  
** I KNOW I SWORE THAT I WOULD STICK TO 100 TO 200 WORDS BUT I COULDN'T. I have too much imagination. GUhguehwuhf...

* * *

 _02\. Love_

* * *

Prior to becoming Lady Tremaine, the woman had loved her first husband until his untimely death. A young Anastasia had once aspired to attain the love that her mother and father had shared. They were not a part of a royal aristocracy despite being faired and well off when it came to finance; however, Ana had always felt well compensated for that sort of title at a young age.

Sir Charles was a landowner whose proprietorship would have been passed down his family lineage if he'd had a son. But with only two daughters at his belt, their wealth began to dwindle as everything was given to the next male heir, namely her late father's brother. Ergo, Anastasia's mother was hastily quipped to marry a man named Lord Tremaine near Sherwood Forest not more than two months later.

It wasn't until the day before they left their former home to join the Tremaine family – more than one fortnight of traveling time by carriage away – that Anastasia had decided to confront her mother regarding the steadfast marriage.

It was dark in the manor; Anastasia tiptoed as she crossed down the empty staircase. Drizella had fallen asleep hours ago, which made Ana feel more at ease with speaking to their mother alone. Everything about her father had been sold to pay for new customs and fair to their next destination, even his finest portraits. The realization caused her eyes to burn until she reached the floor of the staircase.

Blinking as she arrived at the mouth of her mother's open bedroom door, the young girl cleared her throat and folded her hands together. As she was constantly reminded, it was rude not to make herself addressed.

Her mother was fretting about the front of her wardrobe, seemingly irritable beyond the candlelight as she tried to shove as many set of jewelry into one case. The woman looked up and rightly unpleasant at the sight of her younger daughter standing at the opening of her bedroom. Ergo, Ana could see she was attempting to muster up a softened expression as her thin lips curled upwards.

"Anastasia, isn't it past your bedtime?"

The wordage was not friendly, but neither annoyed nor contrived. Ana attempted to smile politely, but didn't feel like walking around the edges of what she wanted to ask. So instead, the words came blurting out of her mouth.

"Mother, why are you marrying him?"

"What do you mean, Ana?" Her teeth were pressed together, standing up to full height to where she had been slouching over her accessories. Attempting to seem nonchalant, Ana shrugged her shoulders lamely.

"You don't love him, do you…?"

She wanted her mother to tell her that she did love Lord Tremaine, despite that they had only written on sparse occasions in the last eight weeks. She wanted to be told that love was a growing sensation, and it would take time before she developed affection for a man who wasn't her father. She wanted to hear any positivity – to give her the notion that love was the most powerful magic in the world, the most important feeling to have, and perhaps be reminded that someday she would find it herself.

But of course, her mother did no such thing as she smiled pointedly and shook her head with disbelief.

"Oh, Anastasia… You have much to learn." She simpered, lifting her brows with conclusiveness. "Someday, you will see that status and comfortable living is the only way to stay happy, dear. I promise you that."

The statement drained her for many months. And from that moment, she swore that she would have nothing nice to say to Lord Tremaine and his daughter.


	3. 03 Dream

**Author's Note:  
** Endless thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorite. I appreciate the feedback. 8) Frankly I had to marvel over how I thought Will and Ana would have met. This idea made me pleased.

* * *

 _03\. Dream  
_

* * *

"Ah, bloody hell…"

The life of a thief was _not_ an easy one – not in Will Scarlet's opinion. _Especially_ not after he had sneaked into a prince's ball ceremony, slithered around the castle, and filled his pockets with all of the jewelry that he could find along disclosed passages. It was bad enough that he had stolen a fine cascade suit two sizes too short for him. Worse that – as he trudged down the balcony and stepped into the spacious chamber of an overwhelming number of people – the cool metal on each sets of stolen jewelry took a sharp jab into his legs and groin.

Walking narrowly on the edges of his feet, Will planned to take the easy way out of the castle. But to resume his intended innocence and nonchalance, he swerved towards the foot court. The smell was unbelievable – and the entirety of the banquet could likely feed a kingdom for a whole month. Ergo, before he found a way out of the castle gates, Will strolled around the table. He took a chicken leg and chewed at that, before moving onto fruits and various nuts.

Subsequently, his point of view changed as his dark eyes caught a vaguely familiar figure. Adorning a lavender dress – with her blonde hair pinned back exquisitely – Will's jaw fell open. Any time he had seen Lady Tremaine and her daughters prior, he'd never had the opportunity to speak to her. It seemed that her mother was scornful and held very little interest nor regard for anyone outside of herself… So quickly, Will brushed his hands on his slacks in some last ditch effort to free them from crumbs. He looked around the area for any sight of the woman or the girl's sister, pleased not to find them there.

And with as much gusto as Will Scarlet was capable of, he strutted like a pretty manprincess towards her.

"What's that they have 'ere?"

He arrived just behind her shoulder, noticing that she wasn't eating anything. She simply marveled over a multiple of dessert dishes, clad with golden plates. Attentively, she picked her head up to look at him. For a moment she looked surprised to see him there. He wondered if she had acknowledged him around Sherwood… But likely not as often as he had her.

"Pudding." Her voice was smaller than he had imagined; gentler. Will sniffed greatly, attempting to hitch up his pants from threatening to fall due to the expensive objects hidden and crammed there.

"Really? Well, it'd be a damned shame if I didn't try some…"

It wasn't a great way to break the ice. Will smiled at her though, and she smiled at him in return. He reached beside her to take one of the golden plates lying unoccupied on the table. He spun it in his hands back and forth, wishing he had enough room in his slacks to fit it in there… However, in the presence of the younger Tremaine daughter, he turned back to the desserts. One pudding was baked; it appeared more like pie than it did a gelatinous form. Will began to pile that onto the small plate, licking the corner of his thumb before dropping the spoon back into the basin.

"So, what're you doin' here?" His question was friendly. The girl crooked a brow at him, however; her cobalt eyes were dark, unlike any color he had ever seen.

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean, what's this party for?" He stretched across the table to pick up a spoon. "Somebody 'ave a baby?"

The Tremaine daughter chuckled at him, trying to decide if he was serious when he asked what he had.

"Prince Thomas is to choose a potential bride after this evening." She explained effortlessly. Will was pleased to hear that she didn't sound particularly fond of the party. At least she wasn't endlessly pining for the prince… "Who're you, again?"

"Will. Will Scarlet." After swallowing a mouthful of the pudding – but trying to do so regally – he grinned at the young woman. "So you're 'ere to pick up the prince, that right?"

"My mother would love that. However, I am not delusional enough to believe that the prince would pick me, of all people." There was a small amount of bitterness in her voice. Not towards the prince; Will sensed that the disregard was referred only to her mother. He set his spoon down to look firmly at her, meeting her dark blue eyes again with his own.

"Why not? You're the prettiest one 'ere."

The girl's eyebrows went soaring up her forehead with conclusive confusion and bated breath.

"… You think so?"

"Know so, been walking 'round the castle for the last couple hours."

Color came brushing over her cheeks only faintly, which she tried to hide behind her knuckles. In the end, she bowed her head with gratitude.

"Well, thank you, Mister Scarlet – "

"Ah, ah… None of that, now." He licked his spoon clean, before pointing it at her with amusement. "Will. Just Will. Start calling me 'Mister Scarlet' and 'm not gonna know who you're talkin' to."

"Will, then." The sound of his name coming off of her tongue was strangely mesmerizing. And her repeated smiling was contagious; he wished he'd had the opportunity to talk to her before.

Consequently, just as he made that thought, he flinched at the sight of a wrinkled, leathered fruit inside of the baked pudding. Fear shooting through him, Will's hands flexed instinctively.

"G'lord…! Is that a raisin?!"

"What's wrong with - ?"

The golden plate nearly toppled onto the floor as it flew from his hands. Fortunately, he caught it before it came to the ground with a crash between them and where they stood. But another noise ousted against the ground instead. Grimacing as he looked down, Will saw one of the emerald rings he had stolen had escaped from his pocket and landed on the banquet floor. Stealthily, he reached down to recapture it before anyone noticed – anyone _but_ the Tremaine girl, anyway.

Her mouth lay half agape at what had come soaring out of his pocket. Will anticipated that she would be quick to yell for a guard to catch him. But instead, her voice came hushed; barely more than a whisper, and hardly judgmental.

"Are you a _thief,_ Will Scarlet?"

"Look, don't tell no one, alright?" Will pleaded, feeling a rush sort of panic as he pushed the ring back into the corner of his pocket. "Please?"

For a split second, he considered running as far as he could to get away. The girl could easily get him thrown into trouble, and he expected that she would say something. Like any other law abiding citizen would… Their gazes met again. The girl's full lips rested into a firm line, watching him carefully. What she said next certainly wasn't on his mind as he fretted how he would get out of the castle.

"What will you give me in return?"  
Will's mouth fell open, ready to retort. But once her statement sunk into him, he reached up to scratch his head. She wanted a compromise for staying quiet…? Surely, she would know that he didn't have money to spend for her, since he was going to the lengths of _stealing_!

"A dance?" Will suggested lamely. The girl looked at him like she might roll her eyes at any given moment. "I don't 'ave anything else. I'm beggin' ya."

She was quiet for a moment, folding her arms across her chest with conclusive thought. Will opened his mouth again, then shut it… He repeated that mantra for a little while, until her mouth barely parted to respond to his demise.

"… A dance will not do."

"Oh, c'mon – "

And that was when she said something he truly hadn't anticipated.

"But you could come and see me later, when the ball is over…"

His heart may have skipped a beat somewhere between "see me" and "ball is over". Was that truly her compromise? For a fleeting second, he couldn't believe it was real until she continued confidently. If there was one thing he had always liked, it was a woman with some kind of an ego.

"I could use the company, and an explanation for your fear of raisins."

"R-really? Just that?" Will sputtered curiously. She nodded her head, but only once as her hands clasped together in front of her. It seemed easy enough, but it didn't stop his mind from whirling.

"Erm, alright. Where d'you live?"

"North of Sherwood Forest, household of the Tremaine family. It's all gray and brick. You should find it easily."

Will's expressions collapsed into a grin, thankful that many of the castle's patrons were too far out of earshot to hear their conversation. Most of them were already back in the ballroom. Their pandering gazes were all over the prince and a blonde woman that he was busy dancing with. But it didn't seem that the Tremaine girl was interested in that, as another simper flitted to her gorgeous lips.

"And what do I call you, eh?" He asked softly, leaning forward a bit so that they were on eye level. She did not pull away; not even the slightest bit as she answered.

"Anastasia."

It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard. A title that rattled affectionately through his senses as he turned away to find a safe route out of the castle with his new riches still intact. Everything about the situation felt more like a dream to him than it did reality; and he couldn't believe his current fortune.


	4. 04 Haunted

**Author's Note:**  
Louricam The Manga Freak, I'M one of your favorite fanfic authors?! Wow… Thank you very much.

I wish I had more time to write a whole story on them. So this will just have to do. Probably corny and cheesy. But for feelings. I like those. (REMEMBER WHEN THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE THING OOPS)

* * *

 _04\. Haunted_

* * *

Will did not kiss Anastasia first; a fact and memorabilia he would never forget, even after the days when his heart was seared from his chest.

A fortnight after their meeting at the banquet in Prince Thomas' castle, Will had gone to see her many times. But their secrecy was formal. Anastasia feared that her mother would discover who she was spending her time with minutely. Will wanted to feel some bout of guilt – especially when he came to the realization that her mother would likely never approve, and the confidentiality of their feelings would never surface.

Subsequently, most of their time together was spent away from Sherwood and in the forest where he lived. It wasn't normally a problem. Staying in Sherwood meant that prying eyes would see who the Tremaine daughter was in a devoted courtship with. Fortunately, for a young woman who was the closest to a noblewoman he had ever met, she never requested much more than his company.

On one night in particular, he built a fire for them. The summer weather breathed over his skin, welcoming the warmth as the crickets sung and the stars lit up like a portrait over the half-mooned sky. From the time that he had been a young lad, Will had admired the nighttime sky. Each star held significance to him, especially when he had Ana in his arms.

They were leaned up against a log. One of his arms draped lazily around her waist, and even with the smoldering smell of burning firewood, the fragrance of her long blonde hair was intoxicating. Her head leaned near his collarbones; he could see the side of her sculpted jaw out of the corner of his vision. One of her hands laid idle against his torso; a vision that he hoped to keep in his foresight for a very long time.

"I dunno that I want to go back tonight…" She murmured, frowning stubbornly. He smiled at her, releasing a soft sigh of his own at the potential of her whims.

"Well, you can stay 'ere, love… But your mum'll notice."

"I know." Ana responded instantly. The temptation was there for both of them. But they had the consequences of their actions to worry about. "It'll happen eventually, you know. Drizella or my mum are going to find out."

"Well, maybe ya ought to be honest with 'em." Will suggested, shrugging. She looked up at him with a frank expression, before tilting her cheek against him once more.

"I can't decide which route would be safer."

"What's her story, your mum…? She ain't no royal lady, what's she got against thieves?" He chuckled with humor once the inquiry left his lips, knowing just how ludicrous it sounded – especially to someone like Anastasia Tremaine.

"You have to be noble to mistrust thieves now?" Ana laughed quietly, peeking at him. Those cobalt eyes stared at his with humor.

"Only if they're _me_!" Will insisted fervently, poking Ana in the side. She wiggled a little, but then paused. He hadn't expected a well-thought out reasoning nor explanation to Lady Tremaine's eventual dislike for him. But Anastasia always seemed to surprise him in the littlest ways.

"She wasn't this bad until my father died… We lost nearly everything. She's tried all sorts of things. Arranging Drizella and I with wealthy sons, demanding invites to social parties and the like. It might have worked out if Ella's father had survived. She doesn't have too many chances left to keep her title up."

The story didn't surprise Will whatsoever – most of what Ana had told him prior gave him the severe indication that Lady Tremaine depended on her daughters to make her own life easier to bear. Will was just grateful that Ana had her head screwed on a little tighter than her family did. The hand on his chest played with the string across the front of his shirt, weaving it through her ivory fingers when she paused.

"What 'bout your sister, Ella?" Will asked nonchalantly, taking a deep breath. If there was one person she didn't like discussing, it seemed the prince's new wife was always the one.

Ana's brows pulled together, giving him a simple response. "She's not my sister."

"Well, she's married to the prince now."

"And she's smart enough to never come in close contact with my mother again." Ana explained matter-of-factly, full lips pressing into a hardened frown. "I don't envy Ella for marrying the prince. She got away, and that's all I want."

Will opened his mouth instinctively, giving her waist a small squeeze. Her inured expression softened at the touch.

"We could go away." He suggested, wondering it if sounded too forward. It wasn't anything he had truly thought out before… However, Ana picked up her head enthusiastically at the prospect.

"Where?" Her eyes were lit up on him, laying her hand down flat against his heart, bated for an answer.

"Dunno, there are lots of different places, Ana. Different worlds…" He shrugged his shoulders. Ana grinned at him, all teeth showing in that crooked smile of hers.

"What about where you grew up?'

Will blinked with unwarranted surprise at her suggestion, turning his head away at the prospect. His teeth bit at his lip instinctively, suddenly feeling a brush of cool summer wind blow across the back of his head. It rustled his short hair, but Will suspected that it was all just a figment of his imagination.

"Not on the list. Too many raisins." It may have been a joking retort, but not one that he wanted to discuss any further. Maddeningly, Anastasia was much too obstinate for her own damned good.

"Will, I'm being serious." She inserted, leaning up against him. Although she waited for him to look at her again, Will didn't; he kept his brown eyes focused on a clout of trees, in hopes of staying safe.

"I can't go back there, Ana. Left it on bad terms, parents probably don't wanna see me again…"

"Why?" Her voice and tone was gentler than before. It was tentative and careful as her arm stretched around him. "Will, you can tell me. You can tell me anything."

A minute passed, where the thief remained silent. He blinked only a few times while he pondered what to tell her. Very few people had asked about where he had come from, before… Normally the details were sparse and settled for others. But not Ana. Will knew that she would fire up a round of questions if he didn't answer earnestly. Regardless, a chill fractured down the back of his spine. Even with the fire dying out and the heat that came with it only a yard away, he struggled to find warmth.

The story finally came out of his mouth at a sluggishly slow pace. It didn't seem like his tongue wanted to work well with his brain. And for a moment, he had to pretend that he was alone, despite that Ana's hand had found his and grasped it firmly.

"My dad's a blacksmith. Mum does… Some house cleaning 'ere and there. Very good, honest people, they are… I've always been a bit of their disappointment. Always askin' me, 'Will, why can't you be as well behaved as your sister?'"

It had been years since he had spoken about his family. They were difficult to find in the back of his mind; he had crammed their existence into a corner. However, Anastasia was right on top of what he told her, taking it in diligently.

"You have a sister?" She whispered gently, surprised.

Halfway between nodding, Will shook his head and breathed somberly. His eyes stung for the briefest second, swallowing hard as he spoke up again. "Nah."

If there was some way, Will Scarlet would have learned how to forget feeling a long time ago. And when it came to his sister, he wished he had some way to cure the broken parts of his heart that would never be replaced. When he took a deep breath of air, Will reassembled himself on the floor of the forest. The burning in his throat began to cease, and his free arm went to look at Ana briefly. His fingers found her hair to search for where he was again while his back leaned up against the comfortable log. He smiled at her, but she did not return it.

"Can't we talk about somethin' else, Ana?"

Ana was careful when she answered. "We can, but I think this is something you are going to have to tell me some day, even if it's not now."

She was right. Will exhaled all of the air in his lungs, but didn't meet her gaze again. He turned his head, facing his profile towards her while his fingers toyed through the edges of her soft hair. At least that gave him some comfort to continue… Despite that he then spoke with great difficulty.

"Penelope was four years younger than me. Better at everything, I swear to it. And she knew it, too. Had no problem rubbing it in mum and dad's faces just to make me mad… But if there was one thing she was best at, it was ice skating. I'm not too nimble on my feet, you know… So I never tried to be better than 'er. Never cared to be – gave up by that time, on a lot of things…"

Despite that his eyes seared and his voice wavered on conclusive notes of his voice, Will wouldn't blink. So the story came streaming out of him like it would at the mouth of a river dam… His hands felt as frozen as they did on the day that Penelope had died.

"She'd be out there, say five in the mornin' every day in the winter. Beat the sun to the ice. One day I went out with 'er. It was afternoon, parents were out… I was fifteen, she was eleven… The sun came up 'round eleven. We were talkin' 'bout Christmas, what we were gonna get mum…" Finally, he did choke. It was small and barely audible, but enough to get him to blink once. But he didn't look at Ana, perhaps out of his own guilt and shame. He could feel her breathing against his side, her hand clutching his so hard that he could barely feel his fingers anymore.

"Seems the sun hit the middle of the ice just right. I sat there, watching 'er… But then I 'eard a sound. Cross between a whip an' a gunshot, it was like. I looked away jus' for a second… When I looked back up, Penelope was splashin' underneath there. Tryin' to breathe again, fingernails scrapin' at the ice from underneath…" Even though the years had passed, he could still see her face looking up at him through the thick cemented glacier… His heart pounded at the memory that had haunted him every day, sometimes leaving him crippled and broken.

Will inhaled himself, imagining himself there underneath the ice. What might have happened if he'd been the one trapped under that lake – every nerve ending on his body _screaming_ at him to escape while blistering frigid water filled his lungs and executed his being…

"I slid 'round the ice, tryin' to get 'er out. I ran back to the house only one time to get a shovel, hopin' that'd help… By the time I got there, she'd stopped movin'…" He finished the story, refusing not to look at Ana. There was a piece of his heart he had not shared with anyone – not until now. But he didn't look at her. He couldn't, perhaps from the shame that dug a deep hole in his conscience.

"Anyhow, I left a week after that… Ran away, swore I'd never go back. Mum and dad might not've blamed me, but I tell what, they wish it'd been me."

Silence. That was what came after his tale had ended. Ana was looking hard at him. He couldn't tell if it was with concern, but he hoped that it was – even if he didn't deserve it. And then she made a request; it couldn't have made him happier.

"Will, look at me."

He did what she asked, but didn't anticipate that when her head tilted to the side, her cheek rested against his. Both of her hands were on either sides of his face. After a half a second of what felt like uncertainty, she kissed his upper lip. It was gentle and reassuring, he felt his eyes close in hopes of saving the momentum for forever. Just as she tried to pull away, he grasped her, recapturing her mouth to his own. His hands seized her around the waist, crushing against her, moving her lips to part… There was no dominance; only two souls connecting with synchronization.

 _Fireworks_. Will thought, as he pulled away from Ana to breathe into her neck. He could remember being very young – perhaps eight-years-old. The first and only time he had seen pyrotechnics on full display amidst his poor village. It was exhilarating; exciting in all ways and beautiful. The same way that Anastasia made him feel now.


	5. 05 Memory

**Author's Note** :  
I'm jumping a longshot forward with this one. Water Temple style. Nah, I just couldn't think of much else for the title. I might as well change this story's name to "The Raisin Beneath The Waves".

(No, actually, it's named after AFI's "The Face Beneath The Waves". A dark, emotionally tragic song that reminds me a lot of Will in OUATIW. This song especially influences this chapter.)

Thego, thank you kindly for the compliment. I'm so glad that I decided to watch OUATIW myself. Red Knave 5ever. Seriously my favorite ship in OUAT ever.

* * *

 _05\. Memory  
_

* * *

"Your breakfast, m'lady…?"

As if there _were_ no safe places for her to practice magic without someone rudely interrupting her. The Red Queen had been formally established in the castle, far away from any wandering gazes or servants to give bother. The draw room served as a perfect opportunity for her to exercise her magic in secret. However, two of her servants found it beneficial to interrupt the scarlet beam she was attempting to create beyond her gloved fingertips, even while she attempted to hide it. The Red King was not fond of magic – but as it were, his Red Queen found it more enticing than she did him.

Therefore, she turned at the creaking door of the palace to stare at the two servants. White faced, ivory-powdered wigs, with a single ridiculous red bolt scratched across their faces… The Red Queen's sneer was more apparent than ever, as one of them entered and bowed to her upon their suggestion.

"I'm not hungry now, it may have escaped your notice, but I am _quite_ busy." She told them darkly, folding her hands together. Although it was beneath her, she stood from her chair at the tall table and peered at the man. Surely, his brother was seconds away from entering himself…

"Ah, but… The King insists, your majesty."

"Why so?" Her voice was cutting. She hoped that if she was harsh enough, they would disappear without question. However, she was not so lucky.

"It would seem, as it were, he has made arrangements to travel elsewhere this afternoon…"

The Red Queen nearly groaned audibly, just as she would have made back in Sherwood if Ella made a word to complain. Her husband tended to make familial gatherings without her knowledge, just as he invited other women into his quarters when she wasn't there. The thought caused her jaw to clench while she stared at the man, whose brother peeked into the room to encourage their sudden appearances.

"Yes, yes… He insists that you eat before you leave." The other piped in, causing the Queen to seethe.

"Perhaps you've forgotten, _I_ am the Queen." The words were foreign to a lost Anastasia Tremaine, and she faced the pair of them with a narrowed gaze. They flinched marginally, which excited her. But that didn't prevent their rummage for defense.

"The Red King would also like us to remind you, that… Erm, while the Queen's word is most imperative – "

"We think more so than his word, frankly – "

"Yes, yes! We do!"

"Spit it out." She growled, hands clenching. If there was anything that the Queen of Hearts had taught her in the last long little while… Being a queen meant bowing down to _no one_ , a factor that she wished that she would have harbored in the days of her mother's household.

"The King's requests cannot be voided by the Queen." One of the servants gasped, inclining his head once more with sorrow that the Red Queen doubted that he felt. "We are sorry."

For the first second, her teeth clashed together behind her lips. It seemed that the Red King labored heavily under the delusion that he could control her – but he would find that he was wrong, much sooner than later. And so, she barked back at them while keeping her head high.

"Well? Bring it in, then!"

And the pair did, crinkling away, heads falling below their shoulders. The Red Queen exhaled as she collapsed at the long table, keeping her cold eyes at the doorway while the identical pair rolled in a silver tray with wheels. They pushed it towards her silently, straightening themselves out modestly. She watched them, barely observing the food they had brought. Carefully, the servants picked up silver plates one by one. They tried to remain as silent as possible, despite that the clanging of silverware was difficult to hide. She saw their attempts at hotcakes and eggs, some kind of ham, along with a few breaded materials… She silently denounced the Red King, wondering what kind of effort he was making by asking for an entire _entourage_ buffet.

Mutely, she damned him – but then her eyes fell upon a small pillage of rounded dish wholesome with dehydrated grapes. And that was when the Red Queen faltered, wishing she had never looked upon them. Her hands slackened, blood drained… Guilt riddled her down to the core, attempting to forget _who_ they reminded her of.

"… Who told you to bring raisins?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Slowly, her cool gaze eased upwards to look at the unpigmented flesh of her servers. They looked briefly back and forth at each other, until one of them nudged the other with their elbow to respond.

The thin-faced one responded first. He cleared his throat heavily, scraping for an explanation. "They are for the bagels, your majesty."

"Take them away." The Red Queen inserted tonelessly, not daring to take another look. She peered back at the servants, back and forth individually. When neither of them moved, her voice rose into a shout. "I said, take them away. I never want to see another raisin so long as you are my servants, do you understand?"

And then, they did scramble satisfactorily together. One of them reached for the band of fruit, the other attempted to hide it behind his back as though it had never been there. The Red Queen gave a faint smile at each of them, folding her hands together fondly at the sight of their discomfort.

"Err, yes… So sorry about that, madam…" One of them murmured, apologetic once more.

A faint silence resonated. The Red Queen still hadn't touched the menu that had been brought before her, until the other became inquisitive.

"Does her majesty… Not like raisins?"

By that time, her patience had dwindled and her appetite was lost.

"I don't recall that being any of your business." The woman glowered. Her voice lowered with every syllable; air catching up in her throat before she could reach it. "Now, get out."

"Your majesty…?!" They both interjected in synchronization, causing the woman to rise again with strict objection on her own behalf. So long as it meant evading the raisins, she was pleased. Especially as their eyes were in contact with her ruby crown.

"Are you deaf?! Invalids! Tweetledee and Tweetledum – that's what you are to me, nothing more. That is what I shall call you. Do not feign your concern. Out with you, do not return unless I ask."

The doubled personages might have scampered away and wished their condolences. But as her hunger eluded her, it was perhaps the very first time – since she had married the Red King - that Anastasia involuntarily gave way to one tear at the firsthand memory of whom was afraid of raisins. At that moment, she was afraid of them too; particularly when they brought her back down into her own level of former humanity.


	6. 06 Fragile

**Author's Note:  
** WARNING: FLUFF. FLUFF ATTACK. RED KNAVE FLUFF AHEAD. I'm trying to include my headcanons of Red Knave before Wonderland. Sorry if this is a problem.

Ahhh, and apologies for my absence! I couldn't think of anything new for this prompt until randomly this morning! I was pretty much halfway asleep so I hope this is marginally as good as it sounded in my head at four in the morning. ;)

Mordanyes, Do you like Star Wars because Yodalicious.

* * *

 _06\. Fragile  
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Sherwood Forest was not particularly a _home_ for Will Scarlet. However, with the choice of thievery as a career, he had very little options of where to live - especially if it meant any of his _customers_ finding out where he went to rest every evening. Therefore when he had first arrived in Sherwood, he had made homage in an abandoned cottage southwards of the bustling town. At first many of its components had been broken down. The roof leaked from tremendous patches, there were holes in the walls of the one bedroom décor, and the floor gave off a fragrance of mice urine. It was hideous on the outside, but after a few months of giving it some attention, Will had managed to save the walls from collapsing. Sometimes the roof still gave way when it rained, but otherwise, it was home; it had everything that he needed, particularly when he made an outstandingly generous steal of goods.

Yawning when he arrived back at the bricked flat one evening, Will stepped through the rickety wooden door. He swung the polyester bag of goods over his shoulder mindfully, stepping across the foyer and into the familiar darkness. Blinking as he dropped the container of his day's work at his feet, he clumsily sauntered forward; carefully lighting a few candles with matches to illuminate the small living space. One oil lamp he had in particular had been a fresh steal; it kept the entire room lit up for long periods of time.

His boots crunched against the wooden ground as he washed his face at the sink. Just as he reached for a towel to dry it, he heard something. Heart dropping into the middle of his gut, Will turned around slowly. He strained his ears, not moving a muscle. The same sound of footsteps crushed against the earth outside. Slowly, he reached for the dagger at his belt and stepped quietly back towards the door. It wouldn't be the first time someone had followed him after a day of pilfering, but he certainly didn't like confrontations and avoided them as much as he would a hairy spider.

The door handle shook and shuddered, indicating that someone was about to enter. Will grimaced, holding his breath for whoever would be there.

The grip on the helve of his dagger only faltered when it was Anastasia who entered. His mind lulled to instant relief, closing his eyes as he arms fell lank back down to his sides. She was certainly a sight for sore eyes – especially in the adorable light blue gown she was wearing.

"Ana, what're you doin'…? You nearly gave me a heart attack…" He exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead with his knuckles. Ana came right up to him, grinning crookedly from ear to ear after shutting the door closed behind her.

"I finally told her. I told her about you."

Will's mouth opened to debunk her decision to come and see him at such late hours, but the words finally processed. He closed his mouth, tilting his head at her. The smile she wore faltered at his reaction. Ana took a sharp step away from him, as though she had been anticipating that he would scoop her up in his arms at the unexpected news. And it wasn't to say that Will wasn't thrilled; but at the sight of darkened swelling against the muscles of her frail throat and neck, he was hesitant and dismayed.

"What's wrong? I thought you would be happy…" Ana mused aloud uncertainly, folding her arms. Her blue eyes stared up at his searchingly. Finally, he cleared his throat and met her gaze.

"Ana, what happened?" Will murmured, licking his lips, but unable to stop staring at the forming contusions just beneath her chin.

"She told me to leave." She answered simply, without a note of fear in her voice. "It's… Alright that I stay here, isn't it Will?"

Shaking himself back into sensibility, Will nodded eagerly at her. Perhaps in his weariness of worry, the information he had been brought hadn't seeped into him fully yet. But at the final realization that Ana would be staying there with him every day, Will eventually beamed. There would be no more sneaking around together. No more concluded secrecy from her family… They could even go to town together, if they wished. And Ana would be there to greet him, every day, every morning.

In the course of his mind, Will reached to grab her wrist and pull her into him. She exhaled into his chest, closing her eyes as his arms came around her. He nuzzled his mouth against the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her hair.

"Course, you can stay 'ere as long as you'd like, love…" Will said, allowing them to bask in the moment before facing more pressing issues. "What'd she do to you?"

"What d'you mean?" Ana pulled away from him, confused. The hand resting against his back clutched the fabric of his shirt.

"Your neck, love… " Will retracted from her to tilt her chin with his hand as tenderly as he was capable. Now that he had a better look at it, he was less worried, despite the fact that there were clear fingermarks that had wrenched against the base of her collar. Anastasia flinched some, but nonetheless turned her head to assure that she was fine.

Halfway between a cool laugh and a breath of air, she responded coldly. "Oh. Mum tried to take my necklace from me as I was running away. When I told her no, we grappled a bit…"

"Did she hurt ya?" His thumb rested against her chin; fingers skimming across each sides of her jaw. He lowered the slant of her head to meet her stare. Ana shook her head slowly.

"No, I'm fine."

Sighing deeply with alleviation, Will smiled at her yet again. And with gentle fingers and intended warmth, his lips caressed and kissed the few bruises that were left against her fragile skin.


End file.
